


Broken

by fujibutts



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cameos, Established Relationship, HIV/AIDS, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV Multiple, Psychological Trauma, Sadstuck, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-08 23:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fujibutts/pseuds/fujibutts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is JOHN EGBERT and you have been stood up by your BEST BRO and BOYFRIEND: DAVE STRIDER... Or have you? Warning: Contains mention of rape! Rated T for language and eventual whatnots. Humanstuck AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use

You close your eyes and bury your face in your hands, pinching the bridge of your nose as you let out an exasperated sigh. He should've been here an hour ago... You don't even know why you try anymore. This was the third date in a row that ended in disappointment... You shake your head as you get up and shuffle up your porch and inside. Your dad smiles sadly at you and takes out a cake from the oven, "Didn't show up?"

You nod your head in the negative and sigh again.

Dad walks over to you and pulls you into a one-armed hug. "It's okay son," he says with a comforting voice. As he pulls away, he smiles at you again. "The cake's done... Want to help me decorate?"

You shake your head once more and smile back, "No thanks. I'm just gonna go upstairs."

He nods once and pats your back as you walk away. "Okay. I'll save you a slice then."

You slowly make your up to your room. Once there, you flop onto your bed and try to scream out your frustration, but all that comes out is a whimper at best. After a few minutes this way, you wipe the moisture from your eyes and reach for the laptop on your bedside. Might as well talk to someone and not let your Saturday night go to waste.

You open up pesterchum and sign in, but don't click on any of the many (seems like everyone was on tonight) colorful names just yet. But this doesn't matter, because soon, the little window is lighting up with a message from Rose.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

TT: John, what are you doing back so early? I thought you had a date with Dave tonight.  
EB: i thought so too. didn't show up though.  
TT: Oh.  
TT: Well, I am sorry to hear that. He seemed so excited earlier. Well, as excited as a Strider can get.  
EB: i don't know...  
EB: it's the third date in a row he hasn't showed up. i'm getting  
tired of being stood up like this.  
TT: Well, considering how much it seemed like he was looking forward to your date, it seems unlikely that he would just bail on you. He probably has a good reason.  
EB: i sure hope so...

You look at the screen longingly; you sure hope so.

Then the screen lights up again, but not with a message from Rose, it was a message from the least likely person to pester you.

  
\-- timeausTestified [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--   


TT: Egbert.  
EB: umm, hi?  
TT: I was wondering if Dave happened to be with you.  
EB: dave? sorry he's not.  
TT: Hmm, okay. If he happens to show up, pester me.  
TT: He hasn't come home since yesterday.  
TT: I almost hate to admit it, but I am having un-ironic stirrings inside of me that resemble worry.  
TT: He's never gone for this long before.  
EB: oh.

You look guiltily at the screen, now lighting up with bright purple from Rose's messages. Dave hadn't been home? Why? Oh gog.

_What if something bad happened to him?_

You suddenly feel all of the anger and disappointment you had start to pool into a puddle of anxiety in your stomach.

EB: i'm sure he'll come back soon :)

  


\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering timeausTestified [TT] \--  


You set your status to 'offline' on pesterchum and decide to spend the next few hours surfing through the wonders of the internet; until your head starts drooping and you can barely see straight. You shut down the computer and slip your glasses onto the side table along with said computer, and wriggle your way deeper under the covers. You would talk to Dave tomorrow.

...

You open your eyes and it is around noon. Groping around for your spectacles, you sit up and survey your room. Sunday morning. Ugh. The weekend was over and school would be back on for another dreadful week filled with homework and PE.

But at least you had at least one of your best friends in your class at all times... Then 5th period math which you all had together. That was definitely your favorite class.

You slip out of bed and stumble into the bathroom for a quick shower. You decide to quickly finish your weekend homework before you got back online once more.

...

"And... Done!" you lean back on your swively chair with a satisfied look. That took _way_ too long. (A quick glance out the window confirmed that though- definitely late afternoon by now). But at least your homwork was done!

After a minute or two of well earned relaxation, you lean back forward and sign onto pesterchum. Almost instantly your screen lights up with orange text.

  


\-- timeausTestified [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--  


TT: Is there any news from the kid yet?  
TT: He still hasn't come home.

Your eyes widen at the text. Dave still hadn't come home?

The pool of anxiety in your stomach suddenly pops back up and starts gnawing at your insides like a ravenous puddle of slime ghost ectoplasm.

EB: nope, nothing yet.  
EB: maybe he got lost?

You know that was a dumb thing to suggest.

EB: maybe he just wants time alone?

There. That's more likely.

TT: The kid never stays out this long.  
TT: He sulks for a while then comes back.  
TT: It's always been like that.

You nod solemnly at the screen. He's right. You both knew Dave well enough to know that Bro was right. Dave was a little off sometimes, but he was definitely smart enough not to run away.

TT: I'm seriously starting to get concerned.  
TT: I have to look out for my bro, don't I?  
TT: If he's not here by tomorrow I'm looking for him.

  


\-- timeausTestified [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--  


You take a moment to shake off the shock, before opening up your long forgotten chat with Rose dating back to last night.

TT: John?  
TT: Are you still here?

  


\-- ectoBiologist [EB] is now an idle chum! --  


TT: Well, you're offline now. I look forward to talking to you tomorrow.

  


\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--  


Clicking on her chum handle, you start up a new log.

  


\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--  


EB: sorry rose i logged off without warning you!  
TT: It's fine. I could tell you had a lot on your mind. My brief conversation with Bro certainly helped clear things up.  
TT: Is it true that Dave hasn't contacted anybody?  
EB: yeah... i'm getting worried.  
TT: I would suggest calling the police and putting up posters, but that seems like an effort of futility.  
EB: yeah... bro said he'd look for dave if he's not at school tomorrow.  
EB: i sure hope dave's at school tomorrow.  
TT: Well I guess you'll find out tomorrow. You have second period PE with him tomorrow.  
EB: right.

You yawn suddenly and look at the little clock in the corner of your screen. '8:33' it says.

EB: hey rose i'm gonna eat.  
EB: message you later :)

  


\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--  


And with a heavy heart, you set your status to 'away' and close your laptop, heading down for dinner. Maybe when you get back, Dave will be online!

One can only hope.

* * *

The next morning, you find yourself unwilling to get up; so what's new? You drag yourself out of bed and into the shower. By the time you're all packed and your daily piece of toast is out of the toaster, you have just enough time to bike to school.

You walk to first period history and scan the classroom. Your heart skips a beat when you see a familiar shade of platinum blonde, but then it slows back down when you remember that it was Rose who had History with you.

"Hi Rose," you mumble as you take the seat next to her

She acknowledges your presence with a nod and a, "Good morning John, how are you?"

"A little worried... No word from Bro yet."

Rose hums and puts a stiff hand on your shoulder which you didn't even notice was shaking. "Calm down John. Dave is a big boy. He'll be all right." She smiles slightly and ruffles your hair.

You let out a shaky breath as the teacher gets up and starts the lesson for the day. Maybe she's right.

...

By the beginning of second period PE though, you know that it's just a pipe dream. Dave's not there.

The period passes you by like a blur, scenarios full of death and despair plague your mind as you run around the track and play some flag football. Next thing you know you're walking right into the closed door of your third period science classroom. Luckily though, Jade is there to catch you.

"Whoa there John!" she giggles. "You were headed straight for the door!"

You stare blankly at your cousin, and her smile falls, making way for a more confused look. "John? Are you all right?" she asks as she takes your elbow and guides you off to the side of the hallway.

You shake your head and sigh. "It's Dave."

Within a split-second, she gasps and all you can feel is her arms around you, a hand threading itself through your messy hair. "Shh, it's okay," she whispers. "Dave is..." she hesitates. "Dave is... He's... Iffy."

You push her away, "Iffy?" you ask.

"Well..." she bites her lip in a manner not unlike you. She sighs and looks you straight in the eye. "He's iffy right now," you open your mouth to protest, but she shooshes you first; "but he'll be okay. You're gonna see him soon. I promise."

With that, she puts her smile back on and guides you into the room. "Calm down John, let's get to class."

You've loved science for as long as you can remember- ever since you were a little baby Egbert bouncing around haphazardly on your Slime Ghost Pogo Ride. But today (surprise surprise)... Not even science could keep your attention.

Suddenly, a vibration from your pocket snaps you out of your reverie.

Sneaking the PDA out of your pocket, you open up the message.

Dirk S.: Get out of class. I'm coming to get you. Be out in 2.

You look up and around the classroom. The rest of the class is looking at the teacher, but Jade is looking at you smiling and nodding, as if she knew what the message said.

You raise your hand up tentatively and hope that the year you took Drama as an elective actually pays off.

"U-Um, Mister Nelson?" you ask in a voice much squeakier than you intended.

The man up front glances at a seating chart before answering, "Yes John?"

"M-May I be e-excused? I don't feel well.."

 _Fuckfuckfuck_ the whole class was looking at you! Maybe they weren't so easily fooled, but your teacher's nickname wasn't 'Naive Nelson' for nothing.

"Well... Fine." he signs a piece of paper and you quickly stuff your things into your bag before bolting out the door towards the office.

When you reach the entrance to the office, you head straight to the attendance lady, Miss Stephanie- a nice woman who was always to kind to you and the other students.

"M-Miss Stephanie!" you shout when you reach her desk.

"John!" she squeaks in surprise.

"M-Miss, I need to leave!"

She's quiet for a bit before sighing, "John, I'm sorry but I can't just let anyone leave school because they ask."

Your face drops and your eyes start to water, "Please.. It's an emergency! I- Dave- Bro- I- I-" soon you're stuttering so badly (hyperventilating a bit too) you can't even understand yourself.

She looks at you for a moment before putting a hand on your shoulder. "Shh John, calm down."

You groan, "That's the third time I've heard that today. No I will not calm down! I need to go! I need to..." you break down, letting out a dry sob. Gosh you were thankful that most of the staff was out to lunch right now.

She sighs once more and signs an piece of paper. "Fine. I'll let you go this once. But dear, please calm down."

You look up at her in surprise. "R-Really?"

"Yes. Now go, I think your getaway car is here."

And sure enough, the familiar sleek black motorcycle (dubbed the 'Strider Mobile' by Dave) is right outside. "Thank you so much Miss Stephanie!"

She chuckles, "Don't mention it."

You grab your fallen backpack and sprint out the door, catching a helmet that Dirk hands to you before hopping onto the back of the bike.

Throughout the ride, you bury your face into the back of his leather jacket and tighten your arms around the rock solid figure that is Dirk Strider. It's about five minutes in that you lift your head from its resting place and survey the area.

It isn't a place you see a lot, but you can just barely recognize it.

You two were heading to the hospital.

Your eyes widen as Dirk suddenly stops the vehicle near the emergency entrance and takes off his helmet, revealing a sullen expression before he flash steps away.

You look around wildly for him, and before you know it, there is a hand planted firmly on your shoulder. "Kid."

Oh. He must've flash-stepped back. "Bro!"

He doesn't respond, but motions for you to follow him, running in at a more human speed. You let him lead you into the chaotic building, filled with people of all ages being treated with various illnesses.

He takes you past them, expertly navigating the halls, various doorways and a staircase or two, until you arrive at a room with the numbers '413' printed on a little placard. Outside is a lady you don't recognize.

Dirk slows and stops to speak with the lady in a muted tone, but you can't hear a word they're saying. All you can focus on right now is the figure in the bed. You can only see the lower half of the person, and the sight just raises alarms in your mind. One leg, damaged in one way or another, is encased in a cast and raised up in a harness. Their other leg is covered with thick white blankets that show no shape or form... But you can just feel that it's _your_ Dave under there.

You vaguely register the talking stop and Bro makes his way towards you, giving you a little nudge. You gulp and look at him with wide eyes as you step into the room.

Almost instantly you're overcome with the scent of antiseptic. You step closer to the bed, and push the curtain aside to reveal-

"D-Dave.." his name barely escapes your lips before you start tearing up. Just what happened to him?

Your eyes well up with tears as you look his blurry form up and down.

There's a bandage wrapped around his head, and without his sunglasses (probably broken somewhere), you can clearly see that he has a black eye. There's a metal thing on his nose- probably broken. His lips are chapped and split, and with his mouth slightly open, you can see that his front tooth has been chipped. You notice with a choked gasp that his neck is bruised... Like someone tried to choke him.

His arms, marred with scrapes and cuts (some bigger than others) are barely visible through the bandages that cover them. But the most prominent detail you notice are his wrists. Right where the bandages stop and before it reaches the point where he is hooked to an IV. Like his neck, they are badly bruised, and you could see a slight tinge of red around them, as if they were burned.

You're frozen, unable to take his badly injured hand in yours. You can't turn away and run out of the room. You can't even get on your knees and sob at his bedside.

But you're shocked out of your reverie by Bro, who once again puts a hand on your shoulder. "Kid."

You turn and see that he's not alone. That lady from before is with him.

"This is Melissa Jones. She's the one who... Found Dave," he says that last part with a little more force.

You turn to Melissa and take her hand, plastering the biggest smile you could on your face. It doesn't look too good. "Thank you Melissa," you say.

"Oh dear," she suddenly steps to hug you. "You poor boy I'm so sorry! I was positively shocked when I noticed someone in the alley next to my little shop."

Your eyes widen. "Alley?" Just what happened to Dave? It was at this point it occurred to you that you still don't know what happened in the first place!

"Oh..." Melissa pulls away and looks up at Bro, as if asking for permission to go on.

Bro shakes his head and steps forward, "Alley, John. Dave... Dave was beaten and raped on Saturday night. Melissa found him earlier today unconscious and just barely alive."

You can't believe the words that are coming out of Dirk's mouth. Dave? But... Aside from Bro himself, Dave was probably the person most capable of taking care of himself! "But-But that's impossible!" you stutter, trying to voice your thoughts. "Dave- Dave- he just isn't the type of person to be..."

"Caught off guard." was the only response.

Those two words hit you like one of Equius's punches. Your eyes are wide, and you tangle fingers into your hair, tugging painfully at it as you start pacing. "Off guard?" is your voice usually that squeaky?

You worry your bottom lip between under your buck teeth, and you hear ragged breathing. You find your way out and into the hall where your knees give our and you collapse against the wall. You pull your knees up against your body, as if you could just up and disappear if you curled up into a tight enough ball. Weak, dry sobs wrack through you, all the way to your very core.

This was all your fault.

Bro was there in a flash, asking you with his usual cool tone what was wrong.

"Everything," you answer. "T-This is all my fault!"

He sighs and rubs his eyes beneath his pointy shades. "Kid you know it's not."

"No _Dirk_ , it is! I-I was so angry and disappointed in him when he di-didn't show up! I-I thought he blew me off! Jegus fuck, if I know what was happening..."

"But you didn't."

"Still!" you spit back, jumping up to your feet. "Oh gog," your legs are trembling again, and you cradle your head in your arms. "The date was all my idea..." you slowly look up at Bro, "Dave could've died."

Again, before you can react, you're up against the wall, and Bro is looking at you with the most menacing look you've ever seen. "Look here kid, you don't think I was scared? You don't think I expected to find his body lying around somewhere in a rotting heap of shit? You don't think I was expecting a call to identify a body?" His voice is getting higher and louder with each passing sentence. You're staring openmouthed at him now, unsure of how to respond. "You don't think I feel guilty too? He's- He's-"

Now you know you've fainted and this is all a dream. Striders. Don't. Stutter. Especially Dirk.

"-my brother. If anything happened to him..." he trails off, looking to the side, but quirks his head up towards the doorway to the room.

It's Melissa. She rubs her arm as she makes her way towards you two. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but you should keep it down. Dave is starting to wake up. The morphine is wearing off, and I would hate it if he woke up to you two fighting, so please."

The two of you nod and stand in silence for an unknown amount of time before you hear a quiet groan coming from inside the room. Melissa smartly steps aside before you and Bro can crash into her in your haste to get in.

You barely register her saying that she's gone to tell the nurses before you're at Dave's bedside, eyes welling up with tears once more. As you wait for him to fully awaken.

Soon, you see his less bruised eyelid flutter open, revealing a single blood red iris. His eyes are bloodshot, you notice.

"You okay Lil' Man?" Bro asks before you can open your mouth.

Dave rolls his eyes and puts up a broken smirk with his broken lips, "You're really asking that?" he asks, with a deadpan tone. But... There was something off. His voice was too... Broken.

He slowly turns to you with a sad smile, "Sorry I couldn't make it man. I got caught up in other stuff."

It's at this point that your knees decided to give out again. The dam brakes and you're kneeling at his bedside crying your eyes out. You feel a hand lightly combing through your hair, and you lift your head up, trying to hold back your pathetic sniffling. "Dave! I'm- I'm- I'm so- I'm so sorry!" you try and try to get the words out, but they end up caught in your throat and you end up choking on your words and stuttering them out.

"What're you sorry for?" he asks with that same broken voice.

"Because!" you practically shout. He flinches, and you plan on internally lecturing yourself on keeping your voice level later. "Because.." you repeat much more quietly, taking his injured hand in between both of yours. "It... It- It was all my fault. I asked you out! If I'd just suggested maybe an hour or two earlier, this... This wouldn't have happened."

You hear Dave sigh and you look up at him. "It's not your fault," he says. "It's all those bastards' faults for doing it in the first place." he grips your hand a little tighter, though his hand is shaking now.

You look up and into his eyes, "Dave..." you lean up to kiss him, but then he quickly turns away. You blink confusedly as you pull back. "Is something wrong?"

He sighs and shakes his head, "Sorry man.. It's not you. I just... I just can't do this."

You pull back, "Of course Dave, I understand." You go back to your original position, kneeling by his bed, and holding his hand. You rub circles into the back of his palm, humming quietly. "I'm so sorry Dave..."

"I told you there's nothing to be sorry about," he says with a slightly more firm voice.

"But-"

"No John." he pulls his hand a away and lightly glares at you. "Stop apologizing and stop blaming yourself."

You pout and look up at him again, "Fine then... So how're you doing?"

His glare eases up and he leans back, stifling a wince when he probably stretches a sore spot too much. "Oh you know, just chillin'. Nothin' new."

You let out a little snort and intertwine your fingers, "Just chillin?"

"You know it man."

You beam up at him. Suddenly, you hear footsteps coming closer. You turn, and it's Bro (since when did he leave the room? You didn't even notice.) coming in your direction with Melissa and another woman in green and white scrubs.

"Why, hello there Mister Strider! It's nice to see that you're awake!" the nurse steps forward as you let go of Dave's hand and move to the side. She immediately grabs the clipboard by his feet and begins checking the many machines at his bedside, jotting things down along the way. She finishes up quickly and smiles at Dave, "How are you feeling?"

You look at Dave, and his expression is impassive. He shrugs, "Good as I'll ever be like this I guess."

She giggles and smiles, "Well Mister Strider, you seem stable enough. We'll keep you here for two more nights on account of your leg, before we discharge you. But you'll be even better if you drink your apple juice!" she gestures to the container of amber liquid on the table. You reach out and hand it to Dave, who takes it eagerly.

"Well- I guess that's it for you, if the other Mister Strider and Mrs. Jones would step outside with me? There are a few people here from the station who asked to speak with you." She turns to Bro and Melissa who nod and follow her out.

You go back to Dave, who's still sipping on the juice, reminiscent of a child. "You'll be out of here by Wednesday... Are you going to spend the rest of the week at home?"

Dave nods. "Probably, yeah."

You nod too; "Okay, I'll get your homework to you then."

Dave rolls his eyes, "Really John, homework?"

You look at him incredulously, "Dave! You can't afford to miss any more English and History homework! You told me yourself tha-"

He holds one of his bandaged hands up weakly, and chuckles, voice just a little less scratchy now. "Fine Dad, I'll take your homework. Jegus man, I was just kidding!"

You stare on at him with the same look for a moment, before it melts into one of concern. "Dave... Please..."

_Knock-knock-_

The two of you snap your gazes to the door, slowly opening to reveal Rose and Jade.

"Rose? Jade? What are you two doing here?" you ask.

"Well- I called Jakey to pick me and Rose up because we wanted to check up on you, Dave!" Jade giggles as she grabs Rose's sleeve and skips forward, plopping down on a nearby chair.

"Hello brother," Rose says. "We stopped by the store and got you some," she places the picnic basket she was holding on Dave's bed and opens up the top, "apple juice, milk, oranges, et cetera, et cetera. Things that will help you heal faster."

Dave rolls his eyes at his sibling, "Thanks sis."

Rose smiles and takes a moves the basket to her lap, taking its place on the bed. "Don't mention it."

You look at the two girls in confusion, but shake it off. Best not to ask how they knew. Jade was usually pretty good at knowing stuff she shouldn't.

The door swings open again, and Jake walks in with Bro, hands tightly twined together. Making his way to Dave, you wave hello to your cousin and step back before he knocks you down.

"Dave!" he practically shouts, stopping right at the bedside. "Dear me, oh dear me..." he pauses, before shooting off round after round of questions: "Pray tell, how are you doing? Are you feeling well? Do tell if you aren't. How are you sleeping?" He pauses again, before finishing with an air of finality, "I promise you I will have my whole squadron working all hours to make sure that the men who did this to you are brought to justice!"

You see Bro give Dave a look of apology before pulling a struggling Jake away, "I'll calm him down," you hear him mumble.

Once your cousin is out of the room, you take a seat next to Dave, and you feel him snake an arm around your waist. "Sorry Dave, you know how he gets.. Really enthusiastic when it comes to the people he loves."

He chuckles, "Yeah, yeah I do. A little too well actually."

You look at him over your shoulder with yet another confused look.

"You hear things when you share an apartment with Bro," he states simply as if you were talking about the weather.

You stare at him wide-eyed while Jade turns around with a blush on her face, and Rose stifles a laugh.

"O-Oh."

The four of you sit in comfortable silence for a while. You lean back on the pillows and Dave rests his head on your shoulder and soon falls asleep; his arms still tightly wrapped around your torso.

After an unknown amount of time, there comes a knock on the door, and Melissa comes in. "Sorry to bother you kids, but lunch is almost over, and I need to open up my store..." she walks up to you and shakes your hand, "It was nice meeting you all, even though I'm sure we all would've preferred it to be under less unfortunate circumstances..." she trails off and puts a hand on the sleeping Dave's shoulder, "I hope you get better soon Dave," she whispers. "Do keep in touch. All of you are welcome to my bookstore whenever!" she smiles at you all before turning and leaving the room.

Daring to glance at your watch, it is revealed that it is almost 1 o'clock. You've been here for over two hours.

You glance at Rose and Jade, who are slowly getting up. "Umm, I'm gonna stay here for a while longer.. Mind getting our homework?"

Jade nods and pats your head, "Remember John, if you worry too much, it's not going to do either of you any good." she straightens up and twirls around, "We'll come back later!" she calls over her shoulder.

Rose quickly follows, giving you a quick wave before disappearing behind the door too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is DAVE STRIDER and this is not how your PLAN was supposed to go. You need to GET SOME HELP before you get HURT OR WORSE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use.

You spend the next few hours by Dave's side, and at some point, you actually fall asleep- only to be woken by a soft beeping from your watch alerting you that it is about 5:45.

You blink a few times before straightening up a bit and prying Dave's arms out from around you.

You stretch your arms and work out the kinks in your back and neck when you suddenly freeze. _Idiotidiotidiot!_ You know that Dave's a light sleeper! You search around frantically for an extra pillow to serve as a temporary substitute for you but alas- you find none. Now Dave is stirring, letting out a soft groan before opening up a bruised eye. "Hey."

You smile, "Hey!"

He sits up slowly, straightening himself. "What's the time?"

"Almost six," you reply.

"Oh," he says; and even though he wasn't exactly smiling, you can still see his face visibly drop. "Visiting hours almost over?"

You nod, "Yeah. Sorry for waking you."

He shrugs half-heartedly. "S'okay."

The two of you are engulfed in a heavy silence. Desperate for something to break it you look to the bedside table. "Hey Dave want more juice? I could get some before I leave if you want."

He shakes his head, "No, visiting hours are almost over. I'll ask the nurse for some later or something."

"Okay then." And once again you two plunged into silence. You take a step towards the bed and take a seat on it. You run a hand through the silvery blonde hair and wrap your hands together. "Dave... I'm so sorry I have to leave..." You withdraw your hands and instead opt for wrapping them around his waist.

You feel him bury his head in the crook of your shoulder as his arms snake around your midsection once again. "I'm scared, John.." you just barely hear him whisper.

Not daring to tighten your grip- for fear of hurting him, you bring a hand up again to his hair. "Shh, don't be." You know this is a dumb thing to say. You wish you could take it back and say something a little more inspirational, but nope. Not today.

He lets a dry sob out, "I don't like hospitals. Too much white.. And when I finally see red, it's not good."

You pull away from him and, as lightly as you can, you pap his forehead and shoosh him. "Don't say that..."

"But-"

_Knock-_

The door slides open to reveal Bro and Jake. Your cousin steps forward and waves; "Well cousin, we need to go soon. I'm bringing you home. Tally ho! Your backpack's in the car. I'll be outside, yeah?"

You nod as he and Bro close the door once more. You run a hand down Dave's bandaged arms and once more twine your fingers together. "I have to go.."

He closes his eye and nods, "Yeah."

You pull away completely and help him settle back into the bed. Leaning in, you place a soft kiss on the crown of his head and smile, "I know you'll be fine. You're a big boy now Dave."

You stand up and you see just the slightest smirk, "Thanks."

You give him a huge smile and blow him a kiss. "I'll see you right after school tomorrow, okay?"

He nods.

"See ya later! I know you'll be fine, honey!"

He scoffs, and rolls his eye, "Night."

You smile once more and head towards the door. Blowing him a kiss and a wink, you wave bye and make your way down the hall.

* * *

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are motherfucking happy. It is Friday evening, and you are on your way home right now- then tomorrow, you have a date with your longtime boyfriend, future partner, and the love of your life: John Egbert. You are especially excited, because you've had to call off the past two dates because you've been working overtime to get a surprise for John.. And tomorrow is the day you are going to unveil it! You're absolutely sure he's going to love it.

You allow yourself to sigh like a lovestruck schoolgirl, because it's not a very inaccurate description of you. Just replace the 'schoolgirl' with 'schoolboy', and it's got you down to a tee.

You're so caught up in your daydreaming apparently, that you don't even notice the large man in a coat that smells of cigarettes and alcohol until after you bump into him. "Sorry," you mumble.

He ignores you and continues on his way.

You shrug and continue on your way. By this time, it's fairly dark. You turn onto a less busy street and push on. Just another mile, you think. But as you pass by a larger building, you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder.

You are suddenly and very roughly pulled into an alley. Your strife senses are kicking in, and other than the one that pulled you into the alley, you can sense three or four other men surround you. Keeping your stoic facade, you gauge your situation. Four guys against you? They don't stand a chance.

Once you can see the whites of their eyes and the haughty smirks on their faces, you strike. The one in front of you goes down with a yelp, and you pull your leg back before delivering a sharp kick to the groin of the man on your right side. He goes down too; but unlike the first- he doesn't get up.

Ricocheting off of your kick, you punch the man on your left. Within a matter of seconds, there are only three men left: the first man you punched, as well as the second- and the man behind you, who should be thankful you haven't touched him yet.

You let out a growl, back-kicking the man behind you and slamming him into the wall. Grabbing one of the other men, you push him into wall as well, burying your hands in their unruly hair and begin repeatedly bashing their heads into the wall.

Once you feel them go limp, you let them fall to the ground. Slowly, you turn on the last man, slightly cowering behind you.

You know he's scared. And you know that he knows that _you're not_.

You smirk before dropping down and sweeping his feet off the ground. Once he lands with a satisfying thud and slight crack, you smirk and wipe dust yourself off.

You straighten back up and start walking to the opening of the alleyway to pick up your dropped backpack.

You don't even hear the sound of footsteps on gravel behind you.

_CRACK-_

You groan quietly, blearily opening your eyes. You're face down somewhere gravelly. Your head hurts like shit.

You try to bring a hand up to run your head, but find that you can't. What.

You struggle and realize they your arms are restrained, as well as your legs, bound together at the ankles and wrists.

You take a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from hyperventilating. _'Stupid stupid stupid! Why? Why did you let your guard down?'_ you scream in your mind. You take a few more minutes to calm yourself. Once you're there, you take a deep breath and scan your surroundings.

It's dark, you notice. Not as dark as it would've been if you had your glasses, but they're not with you right now. Damn bastards... They probably broke when you were hit on the head.

You slowly make your way up to a sitting position and look behind you. There, you see light. It's faint though... But thankfully you're not so far. You get back on the ground and slowly wriggle over.

The light definitely is coming from behind the door, and now you can hear voices. Faint, gruff voices. But you can't hear anything specific because you're too far away.

You decide to sit up against the wall right next to the door and just wait it out. Maybe fry up a plan in your think pan while you're at it.

This gets very tedious very quickly. It makes you very uneasy listening to voices when you can't really hear what they're saying.

You once again make your way to the door, but your foot gets caught on something and sends you slamming face first into the door with a loud thump.

You pull back with a gasp, holding your breath in anticipation. After a few seconds, you realize something is off.

They've stopped talking.

You scoot back as fast as you can while the sounds of approaching footsteps grow ever louder. You make it a few feet before the door slams open. Your eyes adjust quickly to reveal two men; one in black, and the other: a man taller than Gamzee, clad in a long tan coat. His beige blonde hair is similar to yours, and his eyes are a menacing purple color. There is an aura about him.. Despite the fact that he is smiling. Actually, his smile makes it worse.

He raises his hand and you see that he is holding a large metal pipe. He rests his on his shoulder as his smile twitches just a bit. "Oh no, you were not spying on us, _were you_?"

Your staring at him with your mouth wide open, eyes bugging out of your head. Holy shit this guy was creepy.

He takes a step towards you and raises a gloved hand, whacking you across the cheek and effectively knocks you to the ground. "Answer me!"

You fall with wide eyes. You're frozen, but your mouth opens, and out comes the first thing you think of: "N-No."

The smile drops momentarily, and the glint in the tall man's eye blazes darkly for just a second. "Oh, and I suppose you didn't hurt my best men either, huh?"

You don't dare move a muscle. This man is dangerous. You don't even care that your usual coolkid facade has completely shattered. When you don't reply, he hits you once more, and grabs you roughly by the hair. He pulls you up and looks you in the eye. He sneers at you, spitting in your face. You cringe and he throws you down on the ground.

He walks away and snaps at the man in black, "Go with the omega team to teach that brat a lesson, _da_? Rough him up a bit." he pauses before walking out, "Kill him if you have to."

At that, you black out again.

...

The first thing you register when you come to next, is an almost unbearable shooting pain in your leg. You try to scream in pain, but you can't even open your mouth. Duct tape.

You look up and see the same man in black from before, as well as two others, and a woman.

As soon as you make a move though, they stop their conversation and glare at you. The woman sneers like the blonde from earlier. She has that same menacing aura. "So, the little one has awoken."

You scrabble back, trying to create at least a little bit of space between you, but the two men walk forward. One is short with a ponytail, and the other is fairly tall with hair as light as yours, and eyes even redder.

The one with the white hair grabs your collar roughly, "We're gonna have fun with you."

Your eyes widen as the others step closer. The woman pulls a knife out from her large skirt and holds it out. "We'll teach you to mess with us."

You tremble in fear and let out a whimper. As the group approaches, your scream as loud as you can with the tape covering your mouth.

...

Your eyes shoot open and you shoot up, gasping at the pain in your side. Groaning, you grab at it and curl up as best as you can. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you tense up. "Wha-"

"Dave! Get yourself together!" It's Bro.

You flinch, but loosen up just the slightest bit. "B-Bro," you breath.

"You all right?" he asks.

You shake your head wildly, the hair that sticks to your face reveals that you were sweating profusely. The pain in your side hasn't gone away either. You look down and see a dark spot growing.

Bro looks down too and blanches slightly, "Shit. I'll go call a nurse. Sit tight, 'kay?"

You nod shakily as he runs out of the room.

Soon there is a nurse and doctor fussing over your re-opened wound. After you're in a fresh, blood-free hospital robe, they leave you be again.

Bro steps out from his place in the shadows and sits by your side. "Nightmare." he asks more than states.

You nod shakily. You don't look him in the eye, instead focusing on your knuckles, white from gripping the sheets so hard. "Y-Yeah."

He nods, "You wanna... Talk about it?" You can tell he's hesitant. Nothing like this has ever happened to you two before. Of course he wouldn't be sure about what to do. He cares about you and wants you to feel okay- but at the same time he knows that normally neither of you don't talk about things like a normal family would.

You're torn, silent for some time before finally opening your mouth; "I let my guard down. I know you always tell me not to, but I got cocky. I didn't even hear the guy behind me.." your voice fades a bit as tears start pricking your eyes. You tighten your grip on the sheets, "S-Sorry Bro, I let you d-down." your shoulders are shaking as you try desperately to keep the tears from escaping your tightly shut eyes.

You hear a sigh as your bro wraps an arm around your shoulders. "'S not your fault man. I shoulda... I shoulda gone after you when you didn't come home on Saturday."

You sob into his shoulder, not caring how much of a coward you probably look like right now. In return Dirk holds you closer and pats your injured head comfortingly, stroking your hair like he did when you were just a little kid.

You're not sure who said it exactly, but you hear a quiet "Sorry bro.." before everything fades to black and you're unconscious once more.

* * *

Your name is John Egbert. You are currently in a painfully domestic situation, peeling apples for a bedridden Dave- but you don't mind one bit. Actually, you wish you can do more, but you honestly can't think of anything. He's been awfully quiet since you came in... He barely even acknowledged when you walked through the door.

"So..." you begin in another attempt to start a conversation. "They're discharging you tomorrow. Isn't that exciting? You can go home!" you pause in your apple peeling and look to smile at him, but it falls almost immediately when you see he hasn't reacted. "Dave...?" you ask tentatively. "Do you want some apples?"

He sighs and shakes his head. At least that was some sort of response.

"Do you want anything?"

Another shake.

"Are you tired?"

A nod.

"Would you like me to leave?"

This time, he shakes his head with more energy.

"Okay. Do you want me to lay down with you?"

He nods again.

You sigh and stand up, placing the plate of uneaten apples on the bedside table next to the apple juice as Dave settles himself on the bed, scooting down and to the side a bit.

You swing one leg onto the bed and bring the other up to meet it as you lay down. Wrapping an arm around Dave's too-thin shoulders, you can feel him curl into your chest, and circle his arms around your waist, pulling you just a little bit closer.

His breathing is a little uneven, but it soon grows raggedy, and you feel a wet spot on your shirt. Looking down, you see one of his hands- knuckles white from exertion- gripping at the cloth right over your heart, as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored on Earth.

"Dave?" you ask, bringing your free hand over to pry the one on your shirt away. "What's wrong?"

He lets out the smallest of whimpers and buries his face in your shirt.

"Dave..." you twirl your fingers together and twist your arm a bit to brush through his hair. "If you don't tell me I won't be able to help yo-"

"You can't."

Your eyes widen, a little shocked at Dave's sudden interruption, as well how shaky his voice sounds, cloudy from tears and a clogged up throat.

"I... _What_?"

"You can't. This isn't something that can just go away.."

You suddenly feel relieved, in a twisted sort of way, and a smile can't help but creep up on you. "I know that Dave. I know that. But you can't just tell me I can't help."

You see him open his mouth slightly to retort, but you gently shoosh him with a finger. "I'm going to keep worrying about you whether you like it or not mister. I may not be able to help you fully, but what little I can contribute to your cause, I'm going to give because- dammit Dave-" you cup his cheek and tilt his head upwards. Slowly, you bring your foreheads together. "I love you."

It's barely visible, but after knowing Dave for so long, you're just able to detect a slight blush. "I love you too," he murmurs.

You beam at him and rub your noses together, sighing again- contentedly this time. Dave gives you the smallest of smiles in return and, to your surprise, leans forward to peck you on the lips.

You're left in shock once more as he curls in on himself and grips your shirt- though not as tightly as before.

You smile again and replace your arms around him protectively.

Maybe he would feel better tonight..

...

Your name is still John Egbert, but this time you're a few hours younger. It is currently Tuesday morning, and you have just arrived at MapleValleyHigh School, home of the flying ponies.

...Yeah, you didn't think it was that good at first either. But now that you're in your senior year, you've learned to deal.

The second you walk onto the campus though, almost all eyes are on you. You've never really been in the spotlight- not popular at all except for your group of friends, so this is a little unsettling. But what can you expect after running out in the middle of class yesterday? And the mysterious disappearance of your coolkid boyfriend (definitely a lot more well known than you).. It was bound to spark a few rumors.

You keep your head down and bite down on your bottom lip as you make your way to the front of the library- your group's usual meeting spot.

Like the other kids, all conversation dies down once you come into view. It is a fairly awkward silence until Karkat sighs in annoyance and steps up, "You asshats should just ask if you're curious," he says with an exasperated roll of his eyes. He turns to you and begins asking what most people were wondering too: "So what the fuck was with that yesterday? You apparently ran out of third period. And Strider's missing? What do you know?"

You look over at Rose and Jade for moral support as you shuffle on your feet. "Uhm..." but they just motion for you to go on. "Err, Dave got into an... Accident. He'll be back on Monday." You scan the faces of the others and, for the most part, they seem to believe you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a 'stealth crossover' and 'cameo' tag for a reason.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is DAVE STRIDER and wow your teammates are A BUNCH OF RAGING DOUCHNOZZLES. Really- who would do that to someone who is CLEARLY INJURED?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use.

Your name is Dave Strider and you are bored out of your mind. You were discharged from the hospital at around noon and according to the clock, it is... Two P.M. Gog, another hour before school is over for John- then another half hour for him to get here. You decide to roll over to the kitchen for a glass of apple juice (on account of your broken leg you were stuck in a wheelchair. Dang, you have to give Tav some props- not having useful legs is hard).

Once you're back to your spot next to the couch/Bro's bed, you flip on the TV and turn to some cartoons. Good ol' Squarepants can always get your mind off of the less happy things in life. Maybe you would work on another update for SBAHJ later.

Anything to keep you distracted and awake.

After John's little pep talk yesterday, you slept fairly well- meaning no nightmares. But you are still wary about sleeping unless you really need to.

Just a few minutes later though, you find yourself in your room in front of your computer working on your shitty comics. It only takes two hours of the yellow sea-sponge's "AHAHAHAHAHA!" before it starts to sound like Lil' Cal's signature cackle.

You lose yourself in the shitty pixels for gog knows how long, before a knocking at the front door brings you back to the real world. You chance a quick glance at the little clock at the corner of your screen and see that it is a little past four. John sure took his sweet time.

You roll to the front door and open it, not surprised when you see that it's John. He smiles and gives you a quick peck on the lips in greeting before stepping inside and plopping down on the couch. "Sorry I took so long Dave!" he breathes, wiping at his brow. "Dad has a late meeting so I had to walk here!"

Your hand freezes on its way to close the door. You whip around to face him, mouth set in a frown, "You walked?"

He nods, "Yeah."

You slam the door back into its place and wheel up beside John, "John..."

He sits up, head tilted to the side a bit to show his confusion.

"Idiot!" you snap, flinching at your own voice. John does too. "Look, I don't want you walking here alone," you continue in a significantly quieter tone. "If your dad can't pick you up, just walk home and don't come here. It's a lot safer." You grab his hand tight, focusing your gaze on it. "If I hear that something happened to you on your way to see me, I... I couldn't take it."

You look up at him with surprisingly watery eyes and see that he is frowning, head tilted down at your interlocked hands. He blinks, and raises his head to make eye contact, "I... Okay." He smiles lightly, "I just really wanted to see you. But now that I'm here, I'm really tired! Ahaha..."

You chuckle lightly and roll as close as you can to the couch; you reach out and pull yourself onto it as best you can without twisting awkwardly and accidentally opening up a wound. Thankfully John realizes what you're trying to do and helps you settle yourself. Once you're comfortable, you pat your good leg, "Come on, let's take a nap."

He's still for a moment, "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to hurt your leg or anything."

You shake your head and pat your thigh once more, "I know you're tired bro. Let's just go to sleep, yeah?"

John smiles and nods, settling his head down on your lap, arms circling around your waist. "Love you Dave," he mumbles sleepily. Soon enough, his breathing steadies and somehow, he's able to curl into himself and his head finds its way to the crook of your pelvis, his breath tickling your stomach slightly.

You run your hands through messy black hair and let yourself drift off too.

* * *

Your name is John Egbert and- OW! What the hell? You open your eyes and find your vision flooded with white plains of cotton. Leaning back just a bit, you realize it's Dave's shirt.

"No- Don't!" You look up and see Dave, face tense with a bead of sweat running down his forehead. The grip he has on your hair tightens, and you wince. You bring your arms up to ease his hold. Once free, you sit up and shake his shoulder. "Dave? Dave, are you okay?"

"L-Let go of him you bastards! NO!"

You frown at his nocturnal outburst, and shake a little harder, "Dave, wake up- Dave!" You groan and grab his face in both hands, "Dave! Wake up! It's just a dream!" you practically shout.

He jolts awake, eyes all wide and afraid and out of breath. "John?"

You slide onto Dave's lap- straddling him and pulling him close. "You had a nightmare."

He nods once and buries his face into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Are you okay?" you ask quietly.

He hugs you tighter and shakes his head. He's almost trembling in your arms. "They took us. Tied me up and made me watch while they fuckin' tortured you man. I couldn't do one gogdamn thing.."

You're frozen inside. You have absolutely no idea how to effectively comfort someone in this situation. You thought you could two days ago, but Dave just ended up having a nightmare. Oh fuck, you hope you don't just end up making him feel worse...

So you hum and start rubbing comforting circles in his back, "It's okay hummin'bird-" you feel Dave's mouth quirk up into a small smile against your neck at the nickname, "-I'm right here. I'm fine, see?" you pull back and smile at him for a moment before returning to your previous position. "And remember, Jake's got his team working on finding and catching those guys so they don't cause harm to anyone else again."

He nods but doesn't move away. Soon his grip slackens and you know that he's asleep again. You slide off of him and instead pull him onto your lap, holding onto his still-bandaged hands. You would savor the last few hours you had here before you had to go home.

* * *

Your name is Dave Strider and right now, you think that your classmates should all get a life.

Really? Wheelchairs aren't that rare in school. You've got like five people (including Tavros) around the school in wheelchairs and plus- people got injuries all the time! Aren't high school students supposed to be hung over on Mondays or something?

At least John got you another pair of shades to hide your still slightly puffy black eye, and you're wearing a long sleeve shirt that covers the multiple cuts and bruises that litter your arms. But the problem is your leg. You can't wear skinny jeans over the cast, so you're stuck with a pair of shorts that did nothing to hide the injuries on your legs. And your bruised, scratched up neck is totally exposed. Great. Now you feel self conscious.

John wheels you to the front of the library and your friends are all up on you like flies to a pile of shit.

...Maybe that wasn't the best metaphor you were capable of.

"Is that Dave in a wheelchair I see?" Terezi almost cackles.

"Fuck that you can't even see three feet in front of you," Karkat says as he pushes his way over to you. "Finally back Strider?"

You put on your usual smirk and nod, "Miss me Karkles?"

He scoffs, "Yeah, the group just wasn't the same with our resident puppet-phobe. Polluting the air with the complete and utter bullshit extended metaphors that almost constantly spout out of his mouth- when it's not sloppily making out with Beaver Boy the buck toothed wonder over there."

You hear John shout something in return as you roll your eyes, "Better than Lispy McHacker over there."

Sollux quickly takes one hand off of the laptop he's hunched over to flip you off before typing away madly again. Karkat just grumbles something about you being a douchemuffin before storming off.

"So Dave, what did happen?" comes Aradia's voice from somewhere in the back of the crowd. "If you'd like us to know," she adds.

You know John and the girls have told everyone that you were in some sort of car accident, so you just decide to go along with that. "Meh," you shrug, "accident. Some assholes really need to stay off the road and go back to driving school or some shit."

The group seems to accept this explanation and disperses slightly.

Tavros and Gamzee make their way towards you; "Hey bro," Gamzee greets.

"'Sup."

Tavros waves shyly and gives you a small smile, "I guess we're wheelchair buddies now, huh? Or, uh, at least until your leg gets better. I promise it's not that bad. Your arms may get tired a bit, but you get used to it after a few days. It really helps if you've got someone to push you though!" he beams up at Gamzee who's practically draped on him over the back of the chair.

"Aww yeah motherfucker. Bein' all kinds of helpful all up in here."

At this point, the bell decides to ring, signaling the four minutes before class starts.

John finds his way back behind you as he starts wheeling you to the quad area. "Want me to bring you to class?"

"Naw, I'm good. History's across campus. You'll be late."

He hesitates, before moving in front of you. "Fine," he bends down to kiss your forehead, "I'll meet you in PE."

You wave goodbye as you move towards the class. At least you have photography with Nepeta for an hour before you're off to PE- that shitty excuse for a school subject.

...

A few hours later finds you in a circle, sitting with your friends in a grassy area of the school's central area. Everyone's talking and pretty much just having fun- but you can't help but feel just a little tense, like you have been all day. Sure you were never one to mind people and their PDA (especially when 'people' meant 'John Egbert') but now, you're more wary of people touching you and getting in your personal bubble. This is hard though, considering your group of friends and their tendencies.

You lean back and take a swig of apple juice as you continue watching your friends.

...

Your name is still Dave Strider and you seriously hate the fact that you can't walk right now.

Your back is literally up against a wall- and not in a good way.

You swallow nervously and hope to Jegus the your voice won't betray how nervous you are right now. Fucking assholes. Your co-captain and pretty much the rest of the baseball team, the assholes that they are, cornered you by he lockers on your way to meet John.

"The fuck Strider?" Jack, your co-captain spits, shoving you back hard enough so that you hit your head against a locker.

You grit your teeth and glance warily at the rest of the baseball team. Despite being the captain, they never really liked you. "What do you want, Jack?" Dammit. You voice is shaky.

"You were gone this weekend you fag. We lost the game. You cost us the tournament because you were dumb enough to get in an accident. Thanks douche."

You can't help but roll your eyes. Here you are in a wheelchair and all they can do is bitch at you for missing a game. "Well if you guys were good enough you wouldn't have needed m-" and now your head is making contact with the locker again. You also feel blood running down your lip. "Fuck!" you involuntarily hiss.

The others sneer and Jack punches you once more for good measure before walking out with his crew.

You glare at their retreating figures before following. You find John and before you know it, he's running towards you, pulling up his shirt a bit to dab at your nose. "Dave!" he shouts. You just barely flinch. "What happened to you!"

You shrug nonchalantly, but grab his hand to stop the mother-henning. You wipe roughly at your nose and bite back the shooting pain. "Some assholes from baseball cornered me.

John frowns, "We should go tell a teacher."

You shake our head and roll past him, going toward Mr. Egbert's car-which was already in the parking lot. "No. They're just being assholes. They'll fuck off in a while."

You can John verbally frown, but soon he's behind you, helping you into the small car.

"Oh my- Dave! Are you okay?" the older Egbert asks.

You nod and straighten your shades, thankful that they didn't break

John climbs in next to you and slams the door, immediately taking out a water bottle and a pack of kleenexes from his bag before beginning to wipe the blood off your face. "I'll drop by your class room after class so those jerks don't beat you up. I think your nose is broken..."

You shake your head and wave him off; you're glad he's concerned, but really- you can take care of yourself... Maybe... They caught you on a bad day, okay?

"Well in any case-" Mr. Egbert breaks the slightly awkward silence, glancing at you two through the rear view mirror, "-I'm bringing you to the hospital to set your nose Dave."

You mod and look out the window. Jegus. You just got out of that damned place and here you go again.

...It takes a little while, but by 6 PM you're back at your apartment (a shiny new nose cast thing on your face) with John, eating the crap you bought from the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell down the street, doing homework.

"Hey Dave?" John asks from his position on your bed, laying on his stomach atop a pile of pillows, papers and books.

"Hmm?" you raise your head up slightly. It's a little hard because frankly, you don't want to. As kinky as they are, Smuppet rumps are pretty comfortable.

John gets up and takes a seat next to you on the pile, resting his head on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. "I don't like it when you get hurt."

You in turn lay your cheek on top of his head, "Well fuck- I don't like getting hurt either."

John frowns slightly and pulls you closer, "You said we'd be together even after high school, right?"

You nod, "Fuck yeah we will." You hesitate, before adding on, "Unless you don't want to?"

John looks up at you with wide eyes and almost jumps away, "What! How can you say that Dave? Of course I want to be with you! I mean- after all we've been through I assume you felt the same..."

You smile and pull him back to your chest, "Of course I feel the same way. I was just making sure."

He hums and nuzzles your chest, "But we can't have that if you're getting hurt all time time..."

You nod, "I know man, sorry."

"I love you."

"I love you too."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have many names, but most importantly you are JOHN EGBERT, and DAVE STRIDER. Life is pretty great, and you CAN'T COMPLAIN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use.
> 
> OH. Before I leave, Dirk's PoV has a timeskip before it, so no confusion!

Your name is Dave Strider and you are so motherfucking happy you don't even know, bro. You are twenty-one years old and fresh out of college. To pay for the bills, you DJ at nights at Club Alternia (along with a majority of your friends) as turntechGodhead.

The... Incident was over five years ago and over those five years, you've more or less gotten over it. You still prefer wearing long sleeves to hide your scars, and sure- you get nightmares once in a while, but in your situation, it would be weirder _not_ to have any residual trauma. Actually, nightmares or no nightmares, it wouldn't really matter because you always have John by your side to help you calm down. Even more so now that you two are married.

Today is a special day (at least to John it is- you've never really cared actually) because it is your birthday and to celebrate both the anniversary of your birth as well as the rare occasion that you two have the same day off (fuck, Ampora really works his musicians to the bone), you are out on a date.

John drags you out of the coffee place- almost causing you to burn your tongue on the extra hot latte- going towards a shop down the street. He releases your hand soon, and instead opts for walking beside you at a much more relaxed pace.

"Hehe- hey Dave!" he giggles amusedly.

You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Now that you're twenty one, will you get me booze?" he almost snorts in laughter.

You smirk and wrap an arm around him, "Is this going to be a repeat of the 'Hey Dave! What's it feel like being a pedo?' thing we went over when I turned eighteen?"

He giggle-snorts and slaps your arm.

You smile and pause, straightening your scarf and coughing into your glove. Damn cold. You hate getting sick; they're such a fucking hassle... Though when John's fussing over you all the time, they've sort of grown on you.

John steps in front of you, resting his hands in the folds of your scarf. "You're looking a little flushed. Maybe we should've stayed at home..."

You shake your head and cough. He's right though, you do feel more ill than usual. "Let's just go."

The two of you walk on in silence at a thankfully slow pace. You shudder and huddle closer to John. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, "Aww, poor birdy. I'll make you chicken soup when we get home, okay?"

You nod and shiver slightly. Gog, just how cold was it today? You pull your scarf closer, straightening your ironic poofy earmuffs.

John tilts his head up at you, stopping in his tracks to take off his glove and bring a hand up to your forehead. His cold hand does wonders against your heated skin. You unconsciously lean into his touch. "Holy shit- Dave! You're burning up!"

You stare at him blankly; the sound of blood rushing through your ears is enough to drown out any sound. Suddenly your head is pounding. John steps forward and you put a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself, but apparently that's not enough. Your knees decide to give out and soon you're tumbling towards the ground.

The last thing you're aware of is John shaking your shoulders and screaming something, and the rough snow against your face- it's almost comforting.

...

The next time you open your eyes, it's to a splitting headache and the too-clear sight of a white ceiling. You're back in the hospital.

Gog damn you hate this place.

You glance to one side and see a dark sky outside the window; on the other, your shades are next to a box of apple juice. You faintly hear people talking outside the open door- glancing in that direction, you see the tall figure of your Bro next to Jake and John, speaking to an unseen person. They all look extremely nervous.

You slowly sit up and reach for your glasses, unfolding and placing them on your face before reaching for the box of juice with a shaky arm.

As you sip lightly at the juice (it seems like that is the only way you can drink it without it coming straight back up), you go over just what the fuck happened.

Okay- the last thing you remember was walking with John. You admit it was a little dumb going out with a cold- you swear it was only a cold; anything more (like a fever) and that would just be stupid- but John just _sososo_ wanted to go out on a date because it was your birthday or some shit like that. You complied with his request.

You felt worse at some point, with your head pounding and your muscles aching so fucking bad you just wanted to collapse- and so you did. You couldn't even control yourself.

Fuck that must've scared John.

You set the box down on your lap and simply sit on the bed, waiting for the others to finish their conversation with whom you assume is a doctor.

You finish up the juice and- on your way back to return the box to its spot on the table, your grip falters and the cardboard container noisily clatters to the floor much louder than it should be capable of.

The conversation stops and all eyes turn to you. John pushes past your brother and practically jumps to your bedside. "Dave! You're awake!"

You nod and cough into your sleeve as the others make their way in.

"Sup Lil' Man," Dirk greets.

"Hey," is your only response.

The room is silent for a long, awkward moment. The doctor finally breaks it when he bends down to pick up the long forgotten juice box, dropping it into the trash. "Well Mister Strider, feeling better?"

You shrug, "I'm not unconscious anymore, am I?"

The doctor chuckles halfheartedly, "Yes, I suppose you're not. Are you in any kind of pain right now?"

You shake your head.

The doctor nods once and writes something down on a nearby clipboard. "Well, I assure you that you will be healthy enough to go home soon. We're just waiting on a few tests."

You quirk an eyebrow, "Tests? I thought this was just a cold."

You see John frown and gnaw on his lip, rubbing at his arm and shifting his weight from foot to foot. Jake is similar, and your brother is just scowling. "What, is something wrong? Lay it on me doc, am I dying?"

The awkward silence is tense enough to cut with a knife. If you weren't so used to keeping your stoic front, you would probably be breaking out into a cold sweat right now.

"I was being sarcastic," you say in a voice a little squeaker than you intended.

The doctor sighs, "It's not guaranteed... The tests are still running."

"On what?"

"Mister Strider, this might sound awkward, but I understand you've only only had one sexual partner?"

You shoot a look at John, and shake your head. "One consensually."

"Ah. I apologize for this- being in my profession, you always run the risk of being the bearer of bad news. I'm sorry Mister Strider, there's a chance you might have HIV."

* * *

Your name is Dirk Strider and you have no idea how you should be feeling right now. Your brother- the one you raised all by yourself when you were fourteen and ran away with his little five year old ass- is dying. It feels like just yesterday you were there rolling him out of the hospital two days after the incident that started this all. Well now you're back and this time- it's even worse.

About a year ago... He collapsed. Then again a few weeks ago. Gullain-Barre Syndrome apparently. As well as a few other things.

You walk beside Jake, who's in charge of the your nieces' stroller as you maneuver Dave's wheelchair around a lamp post on a sidewalk heading to the parking lot.

You feel bad for John, who has to go through all this emotional shit while he works at Alternia plus constant double overtime shifts to feed four mouths and take care of Dave's medical needs while still being the loving, caring husband, father, and overall relatively good person he is. Of course you and Jake are always happy to assist him- but still, it's a lot.

"Okay Lil' Man," you say later that evening, turning to Dave; "you're twenty two, married, with kids, and you're still not cultured."

Dave raises and eyebrow and Jake sniggers from his position playing with Casey and Kelsey.

"What I'm trying to say is that tomorrow night is John's holiday concert, and we're all going. Everyone- meaning Ampora, Zahak, and everyone in between. That includes us Striders too."

Dave rolls his eyes, but agrees fairly easily. It breaks your heart a bit knowing that he knew why you told him about the concert.

Might as well enjoy your last days little man.

* * *

Your name is Jake English and by golly- this is too much. Cousin John's been working his arse off at the club, and he's also been working at at least four other places doing various gigs and acts to bring in a little extra cash for Dave's medical bills and the girls' expenses.

You love your family a lot, that's for sure, and you can't bear for them to be suffering like this! So you and Dirk offer to babysit the girls when John's at work, and to help out with Dave's deteriorating condition in any way you can.

Oh dear- and deteriorating it is. You hate to admit it, but with his health as it is, you seriously doubt he'll make it through the month.

* * *

Your name is John Egbert and the fact that you haven't had a complete emotional breakdown is one even you can barely believe.

Dave.

Casey.

Kelsey.

They're your main priorities. You would do absolutely anything if it meant that they would be safe and happy and healthy.

Problem is, there always comes a time when you can't to anything at all. That's usually when it counts the most.

Dave.

He has been with you for as long as you can remember. Almost sixteen years now. It's a little unsettling how long it's been.

Since day one, when Jake took you and Jade on a play date with Dave and his intimidating older brother when you were six, you just knew that you would be together- even if it was just as friends. By seventh grade though, things started changing, and maybe, just maybe those catcalls of _'Fag!'_ and _'Homo!'_ were true... You told Dave about these feelings the summer before eighth grade, and he didn't say a word.

Oh god you had never been more scared because when you talked that summer, he acted like nothing happened. It scared you more when he started hanging out with Terezi and Aradia more. To stop being scared, you hung out with Karkat. He wasn't much of a help- just a constantly angry reminder that you were hopelessly in love with your best bro.

At the end of eighth grade- right after graduation when everyone was hanging out and talking to their friends in their fancy suits and dresses- it all changed. On June 6th, 2010, Dave kissed you. You were scared then too, but it was replaced with a fluttery feeling that made you happy- like playing on the swings during a windy day; except this was an infinite number of times better.

You were together, and absolutely nothing could tear you apart. It was perfect (save for a few dumb arguments, but what couple doesn't have those?). Senior year though, there was the... Incident. The Incident that completely fucked your lives over. Despite Dave's constant reassuring, saying that it happened Friday night and your date was Saturday night so it didn't matter if you moved it back or not, you still felt unbearably guilty.

No more than three years later though, on October 8th 2016, after you turned twenty, Dave dragged you to Vegas and in front of eighteen of your best friends- you tied the knot with Dave motherfucking Strider. You were a little scared- but that was mainly because you were worried the bouncer wouldn't let you into the club with your fake ID and you'd have to spend your wedding night with Karkat, Tavros and Nepeta at some pizza place, cursing the fact that your friends are all of legal drinking age. The man let you all in though, and it was the best night of your life.

One year, two months, five days. One year, two months and five days were apparently all you had to enjoy that carefree marriage. On December 13, 2017 Dave Strider collapsed on the street. Oh gog you were so scared out of your wits that you almost dropped down beside him. They ran some tests on him that night, then more on you the next day.

Before the end of that week he was tested positive with a few things, the most prominent being HIV (that later developed into AIDS) and Guillain-Barrè Syndrome.

Your tests all proved negative.

They rushed him to surgery, to hopefully stop the muscle paralysis before it got to be too much. Of course they did not have a cure yet, but after a bit of rehab, Dave was back on his feet.

Things almost went back to normal. At some point, you two decided you were ready, and filed the papers. By June 26th the next year you were sitting on the couch watching Con Air with your two beautiful little girls- three year old Casey and one week old Kelsey. Jegus you were scared then- but happy. So scared and happy you didn't even know how to react.

Five months later that happy went away. Dave had been feeling a lot healthier this past year and you wondered if maybe your lives could get back to normal.

Sometimes you wonder if things would've turned out better if you spent that day relaxing at home with your daughters. Maybe Dave would be okay.

Sometimes you wonder if things would've turned out better if you never told Dave you loved him. Maybe Dave wouldn't be a dead man walking.

But apparently, The Incident wasn't done with your two yet, because week after Thanksgiving during a date, Dave collapsed again. This time, the doctors told you his legs were useless now. The disease was too far in. His arms followed two weeks later. Oh god he was just torn apart into a billion tiny pieces when he was no longer able to work his turntables or hold Casey and Kelsey... Or you.

Now you turn to the small crowd and grin, waving slightly before walking offstage.

Gog you are so _tired_. You just want to go home and collapse on the bed and not wake up until next year.

_How do you know Dave will even last that long?_

You get into your car to pick up Dave and the girls from Dirk and Jake's place. You owe them so much for taking care of your kids and for helping Dave get to his doctor's appointments when you're at work. It hurts that you can't be there for him more. To hold his hand and hug him and remind him that he's _not_ a bother when he has to go through an especially stressful or painful treatment session and feels like complete shit afterwards.

But you can't pay the bills with hugs and love.

You step out of the car and make your way up the drive, hopping up the porch stairs even though your head is pounding and your legs are killing you. Two quick raps on the door alert the inhabitants of the house that you're here.

"Hey," Dirk greets, stepping aside to let you in.

You take the invitation and smile back, "Thanks so much again for picking up Dave and for taking care of the girls! I'm glad there's work other than Alternia though! I could always use some more money to pay the bills," you chuckle, going straight to the guest room where you know the kids are.

Dirk nods, staring at you blankly. "I see."

There's something weird about the way he looks at you.. As if he wants to say something, but just _won't_.

You grin at him with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes and gently scoop Kelsey up and into her seat, Dirk pulls Casey in and cradles her in his arms and follows you out into the car.

Back inside, you look around, "Asleep?" you ask.

Dirk nods, stepping to the master bedroom, "They fell asleep after debating the actual probable uses of whips in an Indiana Jones-esque situation."

You snort and gaze at the two, Dave's head lolling forward to his chest and Jake hanging off of the arm of the couch, hand brushing up against the wheel of Dave's chair. You're sad to break the serene moment, but the girls are in the car and the sooner you're all in bed the better. You lean over Dave and give him a kiss on his pale, gaunt cheek, papping the other one lightly. "Come on Birdy, time to go home."

Dave groans and straightens up, blinking up at you. "Mmokay.."

You smile and get behind him, taking a hold of the handles and starting to wheel him out. You wave at Dirk as you help Dave get into the car, "See you two tomorrow!"

He nods solemnly and waves back before stepping inside.

An hour later and Casey is in her little bed and Kelsey is in the crib next to her. You get in bed next to Dave and bend his legs a bit, pulling his arms forward. He stirs when you run a hand through his hair. "Hm?" he asks with a tired red eye.

You smile sadly and tangle your arms and legs together, "Nothing... Just sleep."

Dave doesn't reply, and looks at your entwined hands. He lifts his gaze back up to yours, "I wish I could still feel my hands," he whispers. His vocal cords are getting weak now too. "I want to hold you again."

You shake your head, "No, hands are overrated."

"Bu-"

You silence him with a peck on the lips, eyes growing moist. With a light squeeze that he won't feel, you force a chuckle as loud as you dare without having your voice break. "Oh gog Dave. Stop it, okay?" _You hate this._ "Listen to me for one second." _You hate lying to him._ "We'll make it through this together." Y _ou hate lying to yourself._ "When you're back to normal we'll go on a Normal Family Outing- yes, with a capital NFO- with the girls and we'll have fun and run around... Okay?" _You hate getting your hopes up when you know it's a futile situation._

He nods and moves what little he can to rest his head against your chest. You're the one who ends up moving toward him though.

* * *

Your name is Jade Harley and you're a little excited, a little nervous, and just... _Bluh_!

You spring up the steps and open up the door to John and Dave's house with your spare key. "Jooohn!" you call out in your best singsongy voice as you skip in.

John waves at you from the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in hand and a bagel half way to his mouth- face covered with crumbs. "Hmfy Jadfe," he greets.

You grin at him and grab a dish towel, practically assaulting his face and the crumbs on it. "Messy messy!"

He grumbles and takes a sip of coffee to down the cream cheese slathered pastry, "Whatever... But hey- thanks for coming so early! I have to be at the studio by eleven for practice and then it's straight to the hall for dress rehearsals before it's curtains up! Oh gosh- I'm actually a little nervous! It really doesn't matter how many times I do it, performing in front of large crowds always gets to me! Ahaha..."

You giggle and pap his face, "Shoosh Bunbert, only piano now."

He rolls his eyes and grabs his suit jacket, slipping on his coat before heading to the door. "So- Dad'll be here to pick up the girls around three, and their bags are already packed so you don't have to worry about that. Emergency numbers are on the counter and I've got poison control, paramedics, animal control, police, Dave's doctors..."

You nod and hand him an umbrella and his briefcase, "I know John! I'm not a thirteen year old babysitter from the school down the street- I've done his before! Now go or you'll be late!"

He gives you a quick hug before you shove him out the door, "Thanks again Jade!" you hear faintly after the door's been slammed shut.

You take a deep breath and go to pour yourself some yummy orange juice. Meh, might as well get Casey and Dave's breakfasts (waffles and plain oatmeal-because of his now very delicate stomach- respectively, and some apple juice for both) set while you're at it.

It's not long before Casey's toddling down the stairs, her long black hair all mussed from sleep. "Daddy?"

You smile and scoop her up, "Sorry hun', Daddy's at work. Let's get breakfast and then we'll get you dressed. Gramps'll be here some time after lunch and you're going to sleep over with Kelsey! You excited?"

You see her face light up in excitement, "Grampa!"

You giggle and guide her to the dining room, setting her on top of the counter as you stick two blueberry waffles in the toaster. After a few minutes of playful tickling, you bring her down to sit at the dining table. You place the waffles on a Spiderman plate and deliver them to her with lots of spastic arm movements and a dramatic bow. "Your waffles, good ma'am.

She laughs with glee and claps her hands together, bowing in return, "Thank you milady!"

You ruffle her hair a bit and straighten up, "Okay- sit tight and eat breaky, 'kay? I need to wake up your lazy dad!"

When you finally get to the room though, you see that Dave is already awake. "Hey there sleepyhead!" you open up the windows to let some fresh air and light into the room before turning to face Dave. He hasn't moved. "Dave?"

His eyes dart over to you, and he looks distressed. Actually- no. That's an understatement. He's scared. Frightened. Terrified.

"Dave what's wrong?" you move to sit on the bed, lifting his head to your lap.

His mouth moves slowly, and you have to really strain your ears to hear him even when you lean down. "Can't feel my arms," is what you think you hear.

"You can't feel your arms?"

He nods. Or twitches. Either way you take that as a yes.

 _Ohgoshohgoshohgosh_ _this isn't good_! You carefully set Dave's head on a pillow and jump off the bed, running straight to the phone, grabbing the list of numbers on the counter. You don't hear Casey ask you what was going on.

You dial the number as fast as you can with your shaky fingers; it takes you a little longer than you'd like because you have to redial the damn thing like a bajillion and one ti- "Doctor! Oh god- help!"

You just know that he flinched a bit on the other side of the line, but he coughs, and sounds a lot more calm than you when he speaks. "Hello? May I ask who this is and who you may be speaking for?"

"Jade! This is Jade Harley- John Egbert's cousin speaking for Dave Strider. Doc- you've got to help! Dave- Dave said- well, not really said, more like mouthed- but oh my god! He said he can't feel his arms! Oh my god help!"

The doctor sighs, "Okay Miss Harley, I understand. I... Will you be able to bring him to the ER immediately? I can meet you there."

You begin to nod, but freeze. The girls. Oh- shit! Fuck! Okay. You can do this Jadey. Can't let Dave down now. "Okay. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

_Click-_

You feel a light tug on your skirt, and turn to find Casey giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes and pout you've ever seen (excluding John because he can out-pout anyone). "Aunt Jade? You're... Sad?"

You bend down and hope to whatever thing is up there that your smile is as convincing as you think it is. "Honey go get in the car. I'll be out with Dad and Kelsey in a lil' while, okay? Can you strap yourself in?"

She nods, saluting you with her left hand, "Aye aye captain!"

You immediately head to the girls' room and, as gently as possible, pick the sleeping Kelsey up and run to the car. You strap her seatbelts in place before double checking Casey's. Once you deem them both relatively safe, you sprint to Dave, hastily unfolding his wheelchair.

_'Arms don't fail me now!'_

You carry Dave to his chair and make like the Flash in your haste to get to the car. Once he's safely inside too and the chair has been thrown in the back, you pull out of the driveway and get on the road.

It's a blur, to say the least, by the only the you remember is making the twenty minute drive to the hospital in record time- with speeds that would put Speed Racer to shame.

True to his word, the doctor is there waiting for you. Some nurses get Dave to a stretcher and they are off. You run back to the car, and to a confused Casey and a crying Kelsey.

You unhook them both and bring them inside, gently rocking Kelsey in your arms, humming softly while Casey sits beside you. After a long silence, Casey speaks with a quiet voice, "Daddy's not okay." It's not a question.

"You're right Casey... He's not."

"Will he get better?"

"I hope so..."

You know it should disturb you (at least to some extent) that a four year old is asking you these things, but it doesn't. It sucks, but the sooner she knows that her Dad might not make it to her first day of kindergarten, the better. At least in some twisted definition of the word.

Long before the doctors come back, Dadbert is there. You hand the girls off to him and soon you're alone with your thoughts.

First off, what to do: wait. Okay, that was easy. Next- what not to do: Don't tell John. Or anyone else for that matter. Well, at least not now. Why? Because John is already stressed.

Knowing that Dave no longer has feeling in his arms will just _break_ him.

A broken John is no good. A broken John can't play piano. If he can't play piano, his bosses will get mad. If his bosses get mad, say goodbye to any job that isn't at Alternia.

No, you will not tell him. Well- at least not until after his show. Or until you _reeeeally_ have to.

Wow- that took less time than you expected. So again you're left alone, mind now free to wander the various outcomes of the situation. One possibility is one you rule out though: the possibility that Dave is going to die.

Well- Dave will die eventually... Probably sooner than that actually. Just not _right now_.

The ground you're staring at is suddenly covered with blue scrub pants and black shoes. You blink up to seethe kindly face of an aged nurse. "Miss Harley? Please come with me."

You jump up and follow her to a room in the recovery wing. A quick glance to your watch says it's a little past three- you've been here for almost five hours. You step inside and are greeted by the Doctor, standing by Dave's bedside. He's hooked up to a respirator.

You make your way to Dave, grabbing his hand as you turn to face the doctor. "Doc... Is he okay?"

He sighs and runs a hand through his graying hair. "It's hard to say. It seems that treatment has not worked. We're not sure if he'll make it through the end of the year."

You nod and look down, staring at his thin, pale arms.

The man gives you a sympathetic pat on the back and walks out, shutting the door behind him.

An unknown amount of time later, Dave wakes up. His eyes dart to you, the window, then the clock. It's five.

He locks eyes with you, and something tells you that he wants to talk. You lean down and bit, and focus all your attention on his moving lips, "John's... Performance..." is what you think you hear.

"Yeah- it's in an hour," you answer.

"I'm going."

You jump a bit in surprise. "What!"

"Get my clothes... Help me get dressed."

"Wait- Dave you can't be serious! John'll understand if you can't make it this time. Next year!" _If a miracle happens and you live that long.._

Dave more or less glares at you, and shakes his head as best as he can. "No."

You pause, knowing that any further argument would be useless because Dave has already made up his mind. You sigh in defeat, "Fine... I'll ask the doctor."

It takes a bit of begging and pleading, but you eventually convince the doctor to let you take Dave out until eight. You come back with two sets of clothes for you and Dave, change, and are on your way by 5:30- just in time to meet up with everyone else.

"Jade! Dave!" John waves excitedly as he makes his way towards you two. He eyes the IV pole and oxygen tank next to Dave, as well as the respirator over his mouth. His smile drops, "What happened?"

You cough and wave him off, "Oh, nothing! Dave was coughing a bit. We just stopped by Urgent Care real quickly. Nothing to worry about! The girls are with your dad so they're okay!"

John frowns, but nods and bends down to press a kiss to Dave's forehead. "Hey Hummin'bird, thanks for coming! The others are over there."

You nod and let John push Dave toward the others while you trail behind, letting them have their alone time.

While the two of them go off to talk to Karkat and Sollux, Dirk, Jake and Rose immediately approach you.

You bite down on your bottom lip and look around at them nervously, "U-Uhm.. Uh- hi! You guys look awesome! Is that a new dress, Rose?"

She nods, "Yes. It was a gift from Mother."

You giggle, "You're probably planning something big to get her back then!"

Rose nods again, and puts a hand on your arm, "Jade, calm down."

"Huh?"

"Cousin you're shaking for frigg's sake!" Jake chuckles nervously as he musses up your hair.

Dirk steps forward and you can see the tense muscles of his face set in a frown, "Something happened to Dave."

You avert your eyes and instead settle for looking at Rose's perfectly polished Mary-Janes, gnawing on your bottom lip and ignoring the growing taste of blood. "Dave... The doctor said he probably won't make it through the year." Your head snaps up and with the most desperate look you can muster, you beg them not to tell John.

They agree, albeit hesitantly.

* * *

Your name is Rose Lalonde and you have to admit- even your masters degree in psychology isn't enough to help you deal with the fact that your brother is going to die.

It is about forty-five minutes into John's performance, and even though you can't say that you can completely get lost in his melodies, you are certainly close to it. You can see why they chose him, of all people, to perform time and time again.

The music just flows from one piece to the next- and even if one is sad and the other is happy, it doesn't make a difference because he can just make it work. The subtle nuances of sorrow though, are there throughout his entire time on the piano.

You can barely register it, but a quiet coughing derails your train of thought. Looking immediately to Dave a few seats over, all you can see is Dirk hunched over him. He shoots Jake a quick look before slipping out unnoticed. Jake follows almost immediately.

 _'Something's wrong,'_ is the only thought in your head.

You make eye contact with Jade, who is frowning. She shakes her head and settles back into her seat. Before you know it though, the fifteen minute intermission has begun and John is practically running toward your unusually somber group, smiling and laughing.

"Oh my gog guys can you believe it? This is so cool! It's only half over, bu-" he pauses and looks around, "Uhh... What's wrong? Where're Dirk and Jake? And... Dave?"

The others avoid eye contact, Karkat scratches at his arm awkwardly and opens his mouth, only to close it again. Ah. So you and Jade weren't the only ones who noticed the Striders' departure.

"John..." Aradia steps forward and puts a hand on his shoulder. He whips back, breathing hard. "John, calm down."

"What happened?"

Jade steps forward, hands raised up. "John don't do anything rash-"

" _What_ Jade? What do you think I'm going to do!"

Jade flinches, and you take her place in front of him. "John."

He turns on you, "Rose, I have to finish this performance. I'm not going to go and run after..." he shudders with a repressed sob, "Dave. I have... I have to finish this." He shakes his head wildly and lets out a choked sound. "I-I have to get to my dressing room..." He points in a random direction and runs there.

You know his dressing room is on the other side of the building.

* * *

Your name is John Egbert and your life has officially gone down the drain. Well, not really. Kind of. Look- it's complicated.

You know you can't leave the hall, but at the same time you know that you might not make it through the performance without somehow breaking down.

Looking outside the window of the room you found your way to and into the slightly cloudy night sky, you steel your facade and dial Jake. He picks up immediately, whispering quietly into the phone. "I'm so sorry John, we just couldn't stay any longer."

You nod, despite the fact that he can't see you. "I know. Is he okay?"

Jake lets out a pained sound, "It's not looking good."

"Is he with you?" you're surprised at how level your voice is.

"No."

"Okay, I'll... I'll keep my phone on. When you can, just... Put me on speaker so he can hear, okay?"

He murmurs a quick agreement and a "Good luck John," before you head back to the stage.

The performance continues all too quickly, but before you begin once more- you place the phone on the piano's sleek black top. "This one's for you," you whisper almost inaudibly.

Your fingers move of their own accord, flitting over the keys and forming elegant, classical (with slight undertones of your favorite jazz sounds) renditions of old Christmas songs. There's an undeniable feeling of sadness and melancholy exuding from you though.

Soon you morph from a rewritten medley of 'Ode to Joy' and 'Angels we Have Heard on High' into a song even more familiar. A song written just for you. A song written by Dave.

Your fingers numbly play the familiar chords of the theme song to your favorite movie, and you faintly hear the words, _'Without you there'd be no sun in my sky... There'd be no love in my life, and there'd be no world left for me,'_ echoing in the back of your mind. He really wanted to work that part of the song into his mix.

Tears prick at your eyes and you don't have a thought in your brain to remove your fingers from the keys as you begin a piano version of a mix Dave always played while training or strifing with Bro. You remember working so hard to compose an arrangement in time for his birthday about a year ago.

You faintly register moisture under your fingers, and blink down to look at the keys- only to find your vision blurry. You let out a breathy chuckle and close your eyes, smiling sadly. Without missing a beat or stopping the tears, you begin another carol. With the music amplified by the speakers, you can almost drown out the thoughts brewing in your mind and the murmuring in the crowd.

...

You take a deep breath and smile widely at the crowd, bowing deeply before puling at your sleeves to wipe roughly at your cheeks. You bow again and wave a few times before straightening. Your pocketed phone now turned off. You don't even bother with grabbing your briefcase and hurry past the backstage crew, running to your dressing room and hastily grabbing the keys to your car. Tears are still running down your face.

_'Pleasepleaseplease don't be too late...'_

Apparently the gods listened to you, because when you get there, Jake is already waiting. You follow him to a room where Bro is standing at the side of Dave's bed. He looks to you before placing a quick peck on his forehead and walking out.

"Hey Hummingbird, how ya feeling?" you ask quietly, stepping up to take a seat next to him.

He shoots you a pained smile, "Great job..."

You chuckle lightly. The years have long since stopped, and you card a few fingers through his soft hair. "Thanks. I played a few song just for you, you know."

He closes his eyes and nods, "Thanks babe."

Pressing a quick kiss to his nose, you bring your hand down to twine your fingers together. He lets out a small yawn and you smile. "Need me to get you anything?"

He shakes his head.

"Tired?"

A nod.

"Would you like me to leave?"

This time, he shakes his head with just the slightest bit of added energy.

"Okay. Do you want me to lay down with you?"

He nods again.

You gently scoot him and a few wires and tubes out of the way before swinging one leg onto the bed and bringing the other up to meet it as you lay down. Wrapping an arm around Dave's too-thin shoulders, you pull him closer to you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind something says this has happened before.

You unconsciously begin humming a song, hand coming up once more to stroke Dave's hair. Before you know it, the humming turns into light singing, and there are tears pricking at your eyes once more.

"How do I... Get through one night without you. If I had to live without you, what kind of life would that be?"

You take a deep breath and nuzzle his neck. You didn't have much time left to tell him exactly what you wanted... You would make this count.

"Oh now... I need you in my arms need you to hold. You're my world my heart my soul... If you ever leave, baby you'd take away the best thing in my life..."

You feel him twitch in response to the slight lyric change. Of course. You could never forget your two daughters- no matter the situation. How would you explain this to Casey? Even if she probably won't remember when she's older, three year olds these days can be really perceptive.

"Without you... There'd be no sun in my sky; there would be no love in my life... There'd be no world left for me.

"And I... Baby I don't know what I would do. I'd be lost if I lost you.. If you ever leave, baby you'd take away everything real in my life...

"And tell me now... How do I live without you? I want to know. How do I breathe without you? If you ever go... How do I ever... Ever survive? How do I... Oh how do I live?"

Your voice definitely cracked in a few places, the lump in your throat being too much to ignore. You scoot down so your're level with Dave again. Rubbing roughly at your cheeks, you lightly brush away the moisture on Dave's cheeks too.

"Dave you assface.. We've been together for what- sixteen years? How do you just expect me to live without you?" you laugh almost harshly as more tears streak down your face. "God. I love you so much... Please don't leave me..."

Dave blinks at you and opens his mouth just slightly. "I'm sorry."

* * *

Your name is Dave Strider and... Huh, dying is a lot different than you would've expected. Other than the suffocating feeling of your burning lungs, it's not so bad. You lost feeling in your arms and legs a long time ago, so they're not causing you pain. Actually- you kind of wish that you could feel them... Then you can feel John's arms around you.

You can barely register a hand running through your hair and then a pair of lips pressing to your forehead. Suddenly your heart beats a little faster and your stomach feels all fluttery.

You're not sure if that's a good or bad thing, but you decide you don't mind it. It makes you feel all nice inside despite your failing organs.

Your lungs are burning and your heart slows back down. You hear a quiet sob and the arms around you tighten. Lips are pressed against yours, and you barely notice John mouthing words against them.

_"I love you."_

You close your eyes and try to settle even closer to him. You're not sure if he hears you, or if the words ever even make it out of your mouth, but you hope he hears your, "I love you," back.

You smile inwardly and repeat it, mouth barely moving anymore, until you get tired and everything finally fades to black.

* * *

"Remeber this is due in three weeks, so I suggest you get cracking! Class dismissed."

Your name is Casey Egbert. You are 14 years old. You live with your adoptive father John Egbert, and your younger sister Kelsey Egbert- like you have been for the past eleven years of your life (sometimes you stay with uncles Dirk and Jake when Dad has a performance- it's often, what with being a pianist and all). You are currently in 8th grade. The class you just exited is Language Arts. It is pretty okay; you don't mind it most of the time.

You pack up your bag and exit the room, clutching the assignment paper tightly in your hand. You've got to remember to interview your dad's friends sometime this week.

When you get to the front, he's already there in his little Civic (you swear you're going to inherit that one day). For some reason he never let you walk places- even though your house was just a few miles away.. The first time you asked, he got upset and almost begged you not to—if only for his wellbeing.

You didn't ask again.

"Hey Case!" he greets with a smile as you plop yourself down in the passenger side of the car. "Whatcha got there?"

"Hiya Dad, it's just an assignment sheet for Language Arts. Have to write five minute speech on a parent without directly asking them anything. Which reminds me, can I research around the house?"

He nods, "Of course you can! But I'm not responsible for any mental scarring if you dig up any especially disturbing skeletons in my closet."

You giggle and poke his cheek, "I know! I'll just ask Aunt Rose and she'll do some of her patented Tentacle Therapy!"

You two continue the banter until you arrive at Kelsey's elementary school. Thank cod for your three year age difference. You loved your sister, but sharing the same school with her? No thanks. By the time she'd be in high school, you would be an upperclassman at least.

The three of you finally get home around 3:45- fifteen minutes of lazing around before heading off to starting your homework.

Soon it's dinner and Dad's dragging Kelsey to the piano again- as he does almost every night. He used to do the same with you, but you had made it clear years ago that you were definitely not the same pianist type of person he and your sister are. You much preferred Uncle Jake's drums.

Another hour or so of mindless television later, and Dad is herding Kelsey off to bed while you use the excuse of 'school work' to kill some time on the computer. He agrees, but tells you to be asleep at 3:30 at the latest. You happily oblige.

The next morning is Saturday morning. You get up, check up on the MSPA website, shower, eat, and then throw yourself on the couch for a much needed nap.

What? You're no day person. You much prefer the night. Less light to strain your eyes. Seriously, sometimes you contemplate just wearing sunglasses all the time.

Dad and Kelsey pull you off the couch a little past noon for some Nutella slathered lunch, and suddenly you have enough energy to make your brain function properly.

"Hey Dad?"

"Yees~?"

"Can I snoop around your room now?"

He snorts, "Sure! I'm just going to drop off Casey at Karkat and Sollux's place for her sleepover with Sarnas, okay? Call me if there's an emergency!"

You nod and wave bye to your sister, jumping off of the counter on which you were sitting and run off to the master bedroom of your condo.

From the moment you enter, you see that the room is very musically inclined- awards in the shape of music notes (as well as a bunny in glass) line a bookshelf in one corner, and framed sheets of overly complicated music line the walls. Three walls are painted your dad's favorite shade of blue- but the fourth wall is painted an almost shocking shade of red. Over the years, you've come to appreciate that color- even going as far as asking your dad if you could repaint your room from dark blue to red. He looked slightly shocked, but granted you permission. You sometimes regret it- what with the red being a lot more prone to shining in your eyes when the sun finally rose- but you love the color too much to change back.

There is a four-poster queen-sized bed covered in blue sheets in the back center of the room. On the bedside tables on either side are pictures of family and friends. They're nice- and told little stories of their own, but not the stories you want. You want the story of Dad's early life. You want the story of the pranking king, John Egderp.

Thankfully, that story is buried right at the foot of his bed. Literally and not so literally.

There's an airtight, fire-proof, earthquake-proof, hurricane-proof, flood-proof, zombie-freakin'-apocalypse-proof chest painted the same shades of blue and eye searing red under lock and key filled with the most precious things known to Jonathan Egbert at the foot of said man's bed.

You open up the bedside drawer and pluck out a key. Taking it you unlock the chest- revealing a keypad. You type in the passkey (413+123) and pull it open.

You stare at the contents of the box in slight awe. There are folders containing (probably) important documents, notebooks, binders... But you move those carefully out of the box and to the side, rummaging about until you reach the bottom. There you find a large old converse shoebox labeled with a record insignia.

Curious to see what was inside, you stand up and walk around the clutter, jumping onto the bed and setting the box on top of the fluffy comforter. As if you were going to reveal a severed head or something of the like, you take the top cover off.

You didn't even realize that you were tense- but you still visibly relax when you see the box is devoid of any decapitated body parts. Instead, there are several things inside. The first thing you remove is a pair os snazzy aviator shades. There are also a pair of headphones (in the same shade of red as the paint on the wall) connected to an old iPhone. Beneath it all is a package wrapped in cloth.

You take it out and soon realize that the cloth was actually a shirt with long red sleeves and a symbol similar to the one on the box- but was broken. You set the shirt down on your lap and open up one of the three red notebooks is covered. As you flip through the pages, almost every page is covered in red ink in the form of a fading, almost messy scrawl. At the end of each page is a signature stating it as a copyrighted work by one turntechGodhead. It's the same with the other one. Setting those aside, you pick up the smaller notebook.

The first page is an angled shot of two boys- one with blonde hair (lighter than yours) wearing the same pair of shades in the box, and a boy with messy black hair, buck teeth, and glasses. He looked like a younger version of... Dad?

me and egbutt dec '08 - thanks for the shades you dorkwad

The next page you flip to is a little better angled. It showed the same two boys in large fluffy Christmas sweaters sitting on a couch near a fireplace (along with a few others) drinking out of mugs with cheesy designs. It wasn't very noticeable- what with all of the action going on around them, but their fingers were entwined on top of a blanket.

taken by harley christmas '10 at the egberts

You flip through the many pages- people you recognize appear every once in a while, but it's mainly filled with pictures of a younger version of your dad and that unknown blonde guy (whom you've decided to refer to as TG).

A little less than half way through is a shot of TG with Uncle Dirk, Uncle Jake, Dad, Aunt Rose and Aunt Jade. They're all gathered around TG, who's on a hospital bed. He looks pretty torn up. You look to the bottom of the page, and see that instead of the usual red writing, it's blue.

dave on the way to recovery! :) september '13

The pictures become sparse for the rest of the year and half of the next- but when they do, there are many pictures of large groups of the guy Dave with your dad's friends. By this point you can conclude they were obviously in some kind of relationship. The thought is backed up with more proof when you get to a picture around 2016. It's a picture of your father in a loose red sweatshirt, hanging off of one shoulder, and a pair of blue boxers with a wavy design all tangled up in the bed sheets. The light is shining in through a window and it catches his hair in just the right way to it makes him almost shine. A closer look and you see there's a little trail of drool leaking from his lips.

i get to wake up to this asshole every morning. im the luckiest guy in the world oct. '16

The next picture is of Dave carrying Dad bridal style in front of a little chapel lined in neon lights dubbed "A Little White Wedding Chapel". They're surrounded by all of your dad's closest friends- everyone from Aunt Aradia to Mister Zahhak.

At the bottom is a note, finally made it official- me and my kawaii waifu at the little white wedding chapel. get ready vegas 20 of the sickest people on this little planet of ours are coming your way. where making this happen

The adjacent page is filled with signatures and little notes in ink colors of all kinds and more different types of syntax than you could imagine.

The next page is a picture of various people collapsed at the bottom of a staircase: _'i warned you about stairs bro_

i told you dog! i told you man! i told you about stairs.

The pictures are really sweet from this point, following your dad and Dave throughout their married life. Around late 2018 though, Dave looks increasingly sick. Finally, at the end of the book- the second to last page is a group shot of the same twenty people dressed formally outside of a place you recognize as McCaw Concert Hall in Seattle. Dave is in a wheelchair this time.

my holiday performance. dec '18 it says in blue ink, through it's a little hard to read though, because the writing is shaky and it is splotched with tear stains.

You close the book with a heavy heart and frown, before pausing. Apparently there was a picture tucked behind the page you were just on. You turn to it, and see that it is a picture of a flat grave marker, framed with flowers from different species and colors. Dave Strider: December 3, 1995 - December 21, 2018 it said. King of Irony and Knight of Time was the inscription. On the other side- right on the inside back cover of the book were the words i miss you. in blue ink.

You quickly close the book and return the box to it's original state, fixing up the room and heading downstairs. Dad is on the phone, but you tackle him with a hug anyways, burying your face in his t-shirt.

"Case?" he asks, covering the receiver with his hand. You just let out a sob and hug him tighter. "Hey Sol I'll call you back. Just email me the schedule, yeah? Okay- Okay- I know- Okay bye. Say hi to Karkat for me!" He clicks it off and soon you feel arms around you. "Casey? Baby what's wrong?"

You blubber incoherent words into the soft white cotton an shake your head, tears escaping freely now.

"Casey honey, I can't understand. Can you say that again?"

You slowly look up and rub at your eyes. He puts a hand on your shoulder and guides you to the couch where you plop yourself onto his lap. He brings a hand to ruffle your short blonde hair with a smile- but his eyes are pained. Your dad never was a good liar. "Now can you tell me what's wrong?"

You pout at the green slime ghost on his shirt, "Why didn't you ever tell us?"

"Tell you what?"

You raise your eyes to look at him head on, your dark blue clashing with his light blue, "Dave Strider."

His breath audible hitches and you feel him tense up. "Y-You saw the box."

You nod, "Who was he?"

Dad sighs and runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "He was... Well, you saw the box, right? We were best friends since we were kids all the way up to... Well, you know."

"...What happened?"

Your dad takes a deep breath and tells you more or less what happened back then. You could tell he was only telling you the most vague version, but you don't push it. By the end of his story you're clinging onto him and crying on his shoulder, making his already damp shirt even wetter. He's sobbing too.

"W-Why can't I remember him?"

Dad shakes his head and holds you tighter, "You were three, 'hun. Too young to actually remember anything.. You might have some memory of him, but that's unlikely."

You sigh, "Can you tell me more about him?"

...

"Casey Egbert."

You take a deep breath step up to the little podium at the front of the class. Tonight is parents' night and it is the night you are supposed to present your speech to the class- one of ten students with the highest graded essays- as well as their parents. You give your dad a small smile and make eye contact with your uncles- as your secondary guardians, they happily agreed to come.

With a deep breath, you begin.

"Hello, my name is Casey Egbert. The assignment was to write about a parent and technically- I am! It's just that... Well, he can't be here." You pause to look up at your family; they all have varying expressions of sadness plastered on their faces. "This is a speech about Dave Strider."

**Author's Note:**

> Notes about family: Dirk, Dave, Rose and Roxy (not mentioned) are siblings. Rose and Roxy stayed with Momma Strider when Daddy Strider left with Dirk and Dave. Dirk eventually left with Dave... Yeah. Jake is Jade and John's older cousin. So... Those three are all cousins.


End file.
